Recovering After My 50K
Crossing the finish line of a 50K feels like a huge win—and it is. But if you’ve never run that far before (or you ran it in a new season of life, like postpartum), what happens after matters just as much as the training that got you there. The truth is, the race isn’t the end of the process. It’s the biggest stress test you’ve asked your body to handle in a long time. Recovery is where you absorb the work, calm the inflammation, and rebuild so you don’t slide into weeks of lingering aches, exhaustion, or random flare-ups that make you wonder why you ever signed up.
For me, the first recovery lesson was simple: I didn’t need to “earn” rest. I already earned it. The day after a 50K, your muscles aren’t just sore—they’re damaged at a microscopic level, your nervous system is tired, and your connective tissue has taken thousands of repeated impacts. Trying to bounce back fast usually backfires, especially postpartum when sleep and hormones can still affect how quickly tissue calms down. So instead of forcing myself into a plan immediately, I gave myself permission to listen for the first real green flag: feeling better day to day, not worse.
In the first 48 hours, my focus was basic: hydration, food, gentle movement, and sleep wherever I could find it. I tried to think in “inputs” instead of “workouts.” Water and electrolytes weren’t optional. Carbs were not the enemy—they were repair materials. Protein helped too, because soreness is one thing, but rebuilding is another. And movement wasn’t a run; it was an easy walk, a little mobility, maybe a short spin—just enough to keep things from tightening into a brick.
After the initial soreness peaked, I shifted into what I call the “stiffness phase,” which for many runners happens around days 2–5. You’re not necessarily wrecked anymore, but you feel creaky getting out of bed, going down stairs is suspicious, and your body has opinions about sitting too long. This is usually when people make a mistake: they feel slightly better and try to “test it” with a run that’s too soon or too fast. Instead, I kept the effort low and the goal narrow—circulation and range of motion. If walking felt good, I walked. If my legs wanted a bit more, I chose low-impact cardio. The win was finishing feeling looser, not proving I was back.
The next phase was rebuilding strength without poking the bear. A 50K can leave your calves, quads, hips, and feet more fatigued than you realize, and postpartum bodies can be especially sensitive to compensation—meaning your back or hips might start doing extra work if your legs aren’t ready yet. So when I returned to strength training, I treated it like “restore stability” rather than “get strong.” Light split squats, bridges, dead bugs, carries—things that made me feel connected and solid again. Nothing that left me sore for three days. Consistency beats intensity in this window.
When I did return to running, I didn’t start with “a run.” I started with a re-entry. For many runners, that looks like a short run/walk at an easy pace—almost comically easy—just to see how the body responds. The most important part wasn’t how it felt during. It was how it felt later that day and the next morning. If I felt fine during the run but woke up with a deep ache, pelvic heaviness, sharp foot pain, or an angry low back, that wasn’t failure. That was feedback. And it usually meant I needed more time in the low-impact, strength, and walking phase before adding impact again.
Recovery after an ultra is also when little issues tend to speak up. Maybe your Achilles is tight. Maybe your knee feels “off.” Maybe your hamstring is cranky. This is the moment to take those whispers seriously, because they’re often solvable quickly—if you address them early. The question I kept asking was: “Is this improving each day?” If the answer was yes, I stayed patient. If something stayed the same or got worse over a week, I treated it like a sign to get help instead of waiting until it forced me to stop.
Postpartum adds a layer that’s worth saying out loud: your core and pelvic floor deserve just as much attention in recovery as your legs. Even if you felt great during the race, the fatigue of a long event can show up after, especially with symptoms like leaking, pressure, heaviness, or that feeling of “my core is not holding me together.” If any of that showed up, I didn’t push through it or try to outwork it. I pulled back impact, went back to breath + core connection work, and prioritized getting assessed if it didn’t resolve quickly. There’s no medal for ignoring signs that your system is overloaded.
Mentally, the weirdest part after a big race is the drop. You spend months building toward one day, and then it’s… over. It can feel emotional, flat, or restless, even if you’re proud. So I tried to give myself a new target that wasn’t performance-based: recover well. Eat well. Walk. Move a little each day. Do the simple stuff. Let my body come back online. In a season like postpartum life, that can be the most athletic thing you do.
A 50K recovery doesn’t have to be complicated, but it does need to be intentional. Hydrate. Fuel. Move gently. Reintroduce strength before speed. Return to running like you’re rebuilding—not proving. And if something feels off and doesn’t improve, get eyes on it early so it doesn’t turn into your next training block’s problem.
If you want, tell me: how you felt during the race, what your top 1–2 sore spots are now, and whether you’re breastfeeding—and I’ll turn this into a realistic “Week 1 / Week 2 / Week 3” recovery schedule you can publish as the next post.
